Fallen Angel
by Silmarwen Nenmacil
Summary: Hermione Granger is seventeen, and the loss of Ron during her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is weighting heavy upon her. In stead of wanting to avenge Ron, she creates the desire to join the Dark Lord, with all the consequences
1. Prologue

A/N: None of these characters are invented by me, nor are they in my position. All characters are all © J.K.Rowling  
  
~*~Fallen Angel~*~  
  
Prologue  
  
"'Avada Kedavra!'  
  
A cold, cruel laugh echoed trough the Dungeon.  
  
'Ron, Ron...!'  
  
Ron fell lifeless on the ground, his eyes staring blankly in front of him. His face wore a somewhat amazed look  
  
She jumped towards him, and touched his check. It was cold as ice.  
  
'Move along, you silly girl. That doesn't make any difference any more.' Said an high-pitched voice that set your teeth on edge.  
  
'NOOOOOOOOO!' "  
  
Hermione Granger woke up with a start, wheezing, beads of perspiration stood on her brow.  
  
She inhaled a few times slowly, and looked trough the dimly lit bedroom; rays of light had found their way in trough some chinks in the curtains. Clearly sunrise had already past.  
  
She groaned when she found a boy lying next to her in bed.  
  
'Fuck off!' she said wearily.  
  
Hermione started to push the boy out of her bed.  
  
'Huh?' he said drowsily.  
  
'I said: "Fuck off!" ' She didn't remember the boy's name anymore.  
  
The boy just stared at her.  
  
'Are you going to move your fucking ass, or do I need to curse you out?' she threatened.  
  
The boy jumped out of the bed immediately and started to look for his clothes, which were scattered everywhere in the room.  
  
'Hurry up.' Hermione said with an annoyed voice.  
  
She heard the boy leaving her apartment, she was still breathing heavily.  
  
This had not been the first time she slept with a boy without even knowing his name, nor this had been the first time she had had that nightmare.  
  
She got out of bed, and put on a black dressing gown which was lying next to it.  
  
The silk sensed good against her completely naked body. Hermione sauntered towards the kitchen, and plumped down on a chair.  
  
Head in her hands.  
  
The picture of Ron lying dead burned on her retina.  
  
Why did he have to die?  
  
***  
  
Hermione Granger is seventeen, and has just finished her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, Ron's death in April is still etched on her memory. Hermione has withdrawn her from everyone ever since, she can't forget neither can she forgive the one who made Ron fight against He Who Must Not Be Named: Harry Potter. Hermione starts to block all emotions, and tries to find happiness and pleasure in shagging boys she doesn't even know. Slowly she creates a new desire: she wants to join the Dark Lord, and fight on his side with all the consequences that may have.  
  
So here it begins, the sad story of a fallen angel...  
  
***  
  
I hope you all enjoyed the chapter or Prologue actually. I know it is short, but I promise my next "real" chapter will be much longer. As you've read, this was quite an innocent chapter. People who don't like sex, angst, or intimidation do better not to read the story. But well, I hope you do read it of course. And people, I can't say it enough: PLEASE REVIEW! You would do me such great favour if you do.  
  
Love, Silmarwen Nenmacil 


	2. The Marking

Chapter One – The Marking  
  
Hermione flung herself on her knees, clutched the hem of His long, black robes, and kissed it.  
  
'Good evening, my Lord.' She purred.  
  
'Stand up, Granger.' The cold voice of the Dark Lord himself said.  
  
Hermione stood up and bowed while walking backwards.  
  
'Are you ready?'  
  
'Of course, my Lord...' she said.  
  
Death Eaters were standing in a circle around them, they were watching eagerly at the scene that was unfolding in front of them.  
  
'Give me your arm.'  
  
Hermione hold out her arm. She gasped when the Dark Lord's ice cold, spider like fingers tuck up her sleeve, and touched her soft skin.  
  
He looked somewhat doubtfully at her arm.  
  
'Are you prepared to give up your own freedom, and obey my orders blindly?' He asked.  
  
'Yes, I am.' She said.  
  
'Will you obey only my orders, the ones of me, Lord Voldemort, greatest sorcerer of the world?'  
  
'I will obey only You, my Lord.'  
  
'Are you prepared to kill everyone who doesn't agree my laws?'  
  
'Yes, I am.'  
  
He nodded in approval, and took a short pause before asking his next question.  
  
'Are prepared to die for your Lord?'  
  
Hermione looked into the cruel red eyes of her Master, and said, determined:  
  
'Of course I am, my Lord.'  
  
A buzz burst out in the group of Death Eaters, one of them took some steps forwards, and said.  
  
'She, my Lord, is the best friend of Harry Potter.'  
  
He took of his hood, and Hermione recognized him immediately as Draco Malfoy. His pale grey eyes and pointy faces were full of pure rancour when he looked at her.  
  
She smirked.  
  
'Isn't this so-called "friendship" an advantage for our Lord?'  
  
Malfoy gave her a puzzled look.  
  
'This "friendship", like you call it, is nothing more than a way in which I can spy on Potter (she spat the name out as if was dirt), and that old crackpot fool of a Dumbledore.'  
  
Her eyes, too, revealed hatred.  
  
There was a profound silence.  
  
'And give me one good reason why we should trust you, you filthy little Mudblood.' Said the voice of no-one less than Lucius Malfoy, who went to stand next to his son.  
  
The Dark Lord looked at them, clearly interested in what they were about to say.  
  
'Didn't you know, my Lord? She is a Muggleborn.'  
  
Voldemort's interested face became menace.  
  
'I am fully aware of the fact she's a Mudblood, Lucius. Thank you. But, however, I was not completely aware of her friendship with Potter.' The Lord looked at Hermione, and said, 'Please, continue, young master Malfoy.'  
  
Malfoy bowed, and continued.  
  
'Ever since the first year Granger was the best friend of that Potter boy, and she's on really friendly terms with Dumbledore too, sir.'  
  
Everybody looked at Hermione now.  
  
'Well, Malfoy. As you've shown everybody already today, you seem to know quite everything about my private life. And, if you do, you should have noticed I haven't talked to Potter since the twenty-fourth of April, right?'  
  
Her voice was calm, but her arm in the Dark Lord's hand was trembling in rage.  
  
Lord Voldemort looked in Hermione's eyes, and she knew he tried to find anything that could prove the contrary. But, in any case, he couldn't.  
  
She had nothing to hide.  
  
'Miss Granger IS going to be marked, my beloved Death Eaters.'  
  
Nobody had the guts to contradict.  
  
Voldemort took his wand, and placed the tip on her smooth skin. A jolt of excitement rushed through Hermione.  
  
"Finally..." she thought.  
  
The Lord whispered the so-welcome words and a pain cut trough her body like she had never felt before.  
  
She didn't flinch, she didn't whimper, she didn't even blink. She just sneered, happy for the first time in months.  
  
The pain stopped as abruptly as it had come.  
  
The Dark Mark had appeared on her right underarm, and she started to grin more broadly. Finally she was one of them.  
  
Lord Voldemort showed her a place in the circle of Death Eaters. It was a pity she needed to stand next to Malfoy Junior, but however this would not spoil her pleasure.  
  
'You filthy little Mudblood.' He hissed when she took her place.  
  
'Go fuck yourself, Malfoy.' She answered.  
  
'Now, let us celebrate our new gained member. A toast seems to be on his place...' he did not need to say more.  
  
Immediately some House-Elves came trotting inside who carried big dinner- trays full of drinks.  
  
Hermione flinched when she saw the have bandaged House-Elves. But pulled herself together, and took a glass of Champagne.  
  
'To our new asset: Hermione Granger!' Voldemort called out, his voice was less cruel than usual.  
  
They all raised their glassed to toast, and said: 'To Hermione Granger, our new fellow-Death Eater!'  
  
Draco hardly mumbled "Granger" before leaving the circle with his father.  
  
She had hardly had time to look around her, when Severus Snape clutched her arm and guided her towards a far corner of the room.  
  
'What the hell do you think you're doing?' he whispered.  
  
His eyes protruded and his face was barely fife inch from hers.  
  
She smirked.  
  
'What do you think I am doing here.... sir?' she purred.  
  
'Don't you try being funny, girl.' He spat.  
  
Hermione ignored Snape's comment.  
  
'You can bring the Order in danger by acting like a fool. It is my task to spy on the Dark Lord and give that information to the Order.'  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow.  
  
'Who says I want to be a spy for the Order?'  
  
It was as though Snape had just swallowed a peck of Stinksap.  
  
'You... you didn't... you wanted to become a Death Eater?'  
  
She looked him in the eyes, and laughed.  
  
'Of course I do.' She said, as if it was an obvious thing to do.  
  
Snape just stared at her.  
  
'Have you got any idea how serious this is?' he said, while barely moving his lips. 'Haven't you even thought about what Dumbledore would say if I'll tell him?'  
  
'But you won't.' she said simply.  
  
'I beg your pardon.' Snape said, utterly confused.  
  
'You won't tell Dumbledore, because, if you do, I'll tell the Dark Lord about your sneaky purpose.'  
  
A loud shout broke off their conversation, and Hermione looked round.  
  
Some just-apparated hooded figures seemed to have captured some Muggles. She walked towards tem, like the other Death Eaters, and they formed their circle once more.  
  
Hermione saw the hungry looks on the non-masked Death Eater's faces, most of them had got their wands ready.  
  
'Be polite, McNair. Where are your manners?' The Dark Lord said when McNair had grabbed a Muggle woman by the arm already, the woman shuddered. 'Lady's first,' He beckoned some female Death Eaters, 'And Miss Granger, of course...'  
  
Hermione walked towards a man of about twenty.  
  
'Come on, sweetie.' She purred while taking the boy towards the border of the room, some other Death Eaters where already raping their victim.  
  
She could see the terrifying look in the boy's eyes.  
  
'Don't be afraid, this will be your last time so you better enjoy it.' She said playfully.  
  
The boy watched in disbelieve while Hermione was unfastening his trousers.  
  
'You were a good fuck.' She admitted, about half an hour later. 'But well, there's nothing I can do with you now any more.'  
  
She sneered, and took out her wand.  
  
'Good bye,' she whispered.  
  
'Avada Kedavra!'  
  
And with a rush of green light he was dead. 


	3. Out of the Blue

Chapter two – Out of the Blue  
  
"Ron's nose was barely two inches from hers.  
  
'I love you.' Hermione whispered.  
  
Ron's lips moved towards-"  
  
KNOCK – KNOCK  
  
The loud tapping noise of someone knocking on the door woke her up.  
  
She found herself holding her pillow in the way she had been holding Ron's face a few seconds before.  
  
"This better be important." She thought while putting on her dressing grow, and walking drowsily towards the door.  
  
She opened the door.  
  
'What the fuck do-' she fell silent, closed her eyes, and opened them once more.  
  
He was still standing there.  
  
What in the name of Merlin was Potter doing here?  
  
'Can I come in, Hermione?' He seemed not to be really certain about wanting to come in, though.  
  
'Sure,' Hermione said, quite astonished by the fact he was standing on her doorstep: it was the first time in months she'd said anything to him.  
  
Harry walked in, and looked around. He had never been here before.  
  
Hermione noticed something moving when she closed her apartment door, obviously Harry hadn't been allowed to come in here alone, so one or more Order members accompanied him under an Invisibility Cloak so the "evil" Hermione couldn't kill Harry while he was drinking thee.  
  
Hermione showed Harry the sofa, and he sat down.  
  
One of Hermione's bras was hanging over the back rest, but she didn't bother to put it aside.  
  
Harry looked at her, clearly he didn't know what to say. This plainly annoyed Hermione.  
  
'Why, Hermione?' Was the only thing he finally managed to say.  
  
Hermione kept her face on a look of polite puzzlement.  
  
She could not understand how he dared to even look at her after what he'd done last year.  
  
'Oh for God's sake, Hermione, you know damn well where I am talking about!' He shouted, the look on Hermione's face had visibly made him angry. 'Why the hell did you need to become one of them? One of those bloody Death Eaters?'  
  
Hermione saw the desperate look in his eyes, and smirked.  
  
She hated Potter, really, she did. She hated everything about him: from his tangled black hair, until his robes which were several inches too short.  
  
'Why I needed to become a Death Eater?' She repeated slowly.  
  
She intentionally rubbed her right underarm. She saw Harry flinch.  
  
'Well, Harry. I became a Death Eater because I'm sick of being on the "right" side, because all you get if you are is death and destruction.'  
  
A vicious light glittered in her eyes; if she'd only had had the chance she would have cursed Potter into a thousand pieces.  
  
'But now you're the one who sows the destruction!'  
  
Hermione acted as though she was offended.  
  
'Oh that hurts, you know.' She said sarcastically.  
  
And just then a pain rushed trough Hermione's Mark, it felt as though her arm was ripped into two.  
  
She gasped, and clutched her Dark Mark.  
  
'Kick off, Potter.' She called, 'I've got other things to do!'  
  
Harry obviously got the point, because he left her apartment in disgust.  
  
In the mean time, Hermione took her wand, put on some robes, and dissaparated.  
***  
  
If you thought finding Potter on your doorstep was the worst thing that could possibly happen on a Monday morning, you were wrong.  
  
No sooner Hermione had apparated to the Dark Lord; she noticed something was definitely erroneous.  
  
Voldemort was standing on the opposite side of her, and next to him stood Draco; there was no sign of any of the other Death Eaters.  
  
Hermione kneeled and kissed the Dark Lord's robes.  
  
The Dark Lord's ice cold hand hit her on the face. The blow hit hard home.  
  
She looked up, and saw the Lord's eyes were more frightening than ever.  
  
Tears were burning in the corners of her eyes, but she suppressed them.  
  
'So this you way of thanking Me?' said His menacing voice.  
  
Hermione didn't have a clue what was going on, but thought better of it than to ask.  
  
Malfoy was holding the Daily Prophet is his hands, there was a huge headline but she could not read it from this perspective.  
  
The Dark Lord took his wand and pointed it at her chest.  
  
'Crucio.'  
  
Hermione screamed. It was as though every single fibre in her body was on fire. She gasped for breath.  
  
The pain stopped when Voldemort lowered his wand.  
  
'Why?' was all he said.  
  
Hermione's view was foggy, her body ached.  
  
It was the second time in about an hour she had been asked to answer that simple question, but now she didn't have a clue what to answer.  
  
'I don't know where you are talking about, my Lord.' She stuttered.  
  
Voldemort took his wand once more, ready to kill.  
  
Hermione looked at his wand, petrified.  
  
'Don't!' Malfoy suddenly screamed.  
  
Voldemort turned to face Draco, astonished about his exclamation.  
  
'I don't understand, Draco. You are the one who said she was behind this mess.'  
  
'I know.' Malfoy said, obviously he, too, was surprised by his exclamation. 'But I think we need to use Occlumency first to look neither she's lying or not.'  
  
"Yes, please. Let them just tear open my mind so they can see I've nothing to hide." She thought frantically.  
  
'Oh, well then, as you wish.' Voldemort said.  
  
Draco took his wand; an unpleasant smile was playing on his lips.  
  
'Occlumens!'  
  
Pictures of all sorts of events flashed in her view: she, struggling with Devil's Snare; she, seeing the Basilisk in the reflection of her mirror; she, facing about one hundred Dementors in her third year; she, hiding under a desk in the Ministry of Magic; she, touching the dead face of Ron; she, shouting at her mother and father at the beginning of the Summer Holiday's...  
  
It seemed to take ages before Draco was satisfied.  
  
By the time he had stopped, Hermione was crying; she's seen things she had put in the back of her mind, and never had wanted to relive again.  
  
Had Malfoy seen al those things too? He seemed to be off his stroke, though.  
  
'And?' The Dark Lord said impatiently.  
  
'Nothing, sir.' He said.  
  
'What do you mean "nothing"?' Voldemort said coldly.  
  
'I didn't saw anything that may point in the direction of her being the sneak.'  
  
Voldemort turned to face Hermione once more.  
  
'So you aren't behind those attacks?' The Lord said suspiciously.  
  
'What attacks?' She answered, while wiping away her tears.  
  
'Don't you even know about the attack?' Draco said in disbelief.  
  
'No, I don't.' Hermione said. She still didn't have a clue where they were talking about.  
  
'Give her the paper.' Voldemort commanded.  
  
Draco gave her the paper, Hermione gasped when she saw the headline:  
  
MASS CAPTURE – MINISTRY CAUGHT THIRTEEN DEATH EATERS  
  
'I... I didn't... know.' She stammered.  
  
Her head was swimming, this had really been too much for one day... first that Potter boy, now this imprisoning. She didn't want to think about what was going to happen next.  
  
Hermione read the whole article in disgust. No wonder the Dark Lord was pissed off: thirteen of his best Death Eaters in Azkaban.  
  
'Snape...' she stuttered.  
  
'What did you say?' Malfoy asked curiously.  
  
'Snape... Severus Snape... He's the spy; he's been a spy for the Order for ages.' She answered.  
  
'The Order of the Phoenix?' Malfoy was staring at Hermione with an eager look in his face.  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'What- ' Draco began, but the Dark Lord silenced Malfoy by only looking at him.  
  
'Well, well, Miss Granger. Why do you think Snape's the one who's behind these attacks?' The Lord said calmly.  
  
'I've seen him. The night of my Marking, he said he was going to tell the Order about me...' It had been stupid of her not to tell the Lord straight away.  
  
A triumphant light shone in her master's red eyes.  
  
'What are you going to do about this, my Lord?' she asked cautiously.  
  
Voldemort laughed in a cruel, joyless way.  
  
'Oh, my dear Angel. You'll find out soon enough...' 


	4. Bleeding Wounds

uChapter three – Bleeding Wounds/u  
  
center  
  
iAs he died, he will return to die in me again./i  
  
/center  
  
Hermione was lying on her back in the grass, staring at the bright sun that was shining merrily; a soft breeze was blowing trough her hair.  
  
Silent tears were rolling out of the corners of her eyes, leaving a black trail of flown out make-up on her cheeks.  
  
It had been a day since the meeting with the Dark Lord, and she was thinking about the memories she had seen while Malfoy had been combing out her thoughts. She closed her eyes.  
  
Why couldn't these thoughts just lave her alone?  
  
These memories were just like wounds; every time you thought they had almost healed, they were scratched open, and started bleeding once more.  
  
'Hello.'  
  
Hermione opened her eyes with a start to find Malfoy's face hovering above her.  
  
'For God's sake, Malfoy! You frightened me to death!' She shouted.  
  
'No, I didn't.' He said simply. 'You're still alive.'  
  
He flopped down next to her, and she hastily wiped away her tears.  
  
'I want to excuse myself for… eh.' Draco hesitated, 'For yesterday.'  
  
'I don't need your excuses, Malfoy. You knew perfectly well what you where doing yesterday, so there's no point in regretting it now.'  
  
Hermione looked away from him; she didn't think she could bear a conversation whith Malfoy about this? She didn't want to go trough everything once more.  
  
'C'mon, Hermione. I'm really sorry.'  
  
'Leave me alone, Malfoy.'  
  
Draco put his hand on her shoulder; and she turned around to face him. To her surprise she saw that he was looking more serious that she had ever seen him before.  
  
'Why, Malfoy. Why? Why do you regret now what you did?' she asked.  
  
'I didn't know about all that stuff. About Potter-' He began.  
  
Of course she knew what he was talking about. Her darkest memory had revealed itself in front of Malfoy.  
  
'Well, it was obviously not my intention to make you know that.' She said, frowning.  
  
'But what, I mean… eh…' Malfoy clearly didn't know what to say or how to say it.  
  
He cleared his throat.  
  
'Eh… I didn't really understand that memory actually. I mean, you were seeing the Weasel, so why Potter?'  
  
Hermione remained silent, she hadn't talked about this to anyone, leave alone she would tell it to no-one less than Draco Malfoy himself.  
  
'I… eh… I-' She stuttered.  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
iHarry looked into Hermione's eyes; his vivid green ones were twinkling in a way she had never seen before.  
  
Harry bent forwards and his lips toughed hers.  
  
She closed her eyes and felt Harry's tongue entering her mouth. Her tongue, too, found her way into Harry's mouth.  
  
Harry put his arms around her waist; his tongue entering her mouth more deeply.  
  
'What the devil are you doing?'  
  
Ron had entered the room, he was staring at them in disbelieve.  
  
'And I thought you loved me!'  
  
Ron turned around, left the room, and slammed the door shut.  
  
Hermione looked at Harry in disgust, and smacked him in the face.  
  
She ran towards the door as calling:  
  
'Ron! It's not what you think!'/i  
  
FLASHBACK  
  
A dry sob escaped her mouth, and silent tears started rolling over her cheeks once more.  
  
'It happened the day before ihe/i died…' she said silently 'I never wanted to- '  
  
She sobbed another time.  
  
'I never had the chance to make it up with him!'  
  
Hermione wept, put her arms around Draco's neck, and started to sob hysterically.  
  
center/center  
  
Everything seemed to have changed ever since that day: she didn't completely ihate/i him any more, but you couldn't say she liked him either. I mean, he had comforted her, but you can't expect her to really like the one who knew just everything about her…  
  
No, she had just ignored him ever since. She had ignored about the whole world ever since. OK, she knew that wasn't a really good option, especially not if you considered she had received a letter this morning that made avoiding Malfoy completely impossible.  
  
iDear Ms Granger,  
  
I am glad to inform you that you have been chosen as Head Girl of Hogwarts during her final year. Mr Draco Malfoy has been chosen as Head Boy.  
  
You will share Private Rooms together, and you'll both be responsible for the students at Hogwarts and the tasks of the Hogwarts Prefects.  
  
Further information is enclosed in a second letter.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Professor M. McGonagall  
  
Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts/i  
  
A silvery badge with the initials H.G. (A/N: I know it's quite confusing but the H.G. stands for "Head Girl" and not "Hermione Granger", OK?) had been enclosed too.  
  
Hermione took the badge once more, and looked at it, the previous years she would have done anything to receive this, and now it didn't seem important anymore.  
  
However, the Dark Lord did seem to think it was an important thing to have two of his Death Eaters at the top of the school, he appeared to think it had its iadvantages/i. He had made that clear as he summoned them this morning just after she'd received this letter. God may now how he always manages to know everything that quickly, she had thought while she hurriedly changed her black pyjamas into wizard robes.  
  
Of course there were rewards for her too as she became the Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for one The Private Rooms; it was a pity she needed to share them with Malfoy though. But she didn't need to visit that lousy Gryffindor Common Room every day any longer.  
  
She had hated it in there ever since last year: Potter was really worshipped in there, and she could not at all pretend she was one of those silly girls who loved Potter because he was "the-boy-who-lived", (ihe/i better had been the boy who died! She though bitterly). It was incredible however to see how many girls did love him… It made her sick.  
  
She saw the picture of her kissing Harry in her head, and shivered her eye fell on a photo of Ron, which was standing on the windowsill. She stumbled towards it and took it in her hands. She whispered:  
  
'I'm so sorry, Ron. I'm so terribly sorry for what I've done to you.'  
  
She fell down the floor, and shouted at the ceiling.  
  
'I do not deserve this badge; I don't even deserve this life. Oh, Ron. I have nothing left! Though I've tried to forget, you'll all that I am. I'm trough fighting it. I give up! Without you I can't go on, anymore, ever again! It was me who needed to die, not you….'  
  
The last sentence was barely more than a whisper. Tears were steaming over her face, as she was wailing there desperately. Sobbing like mad, sitting on her knees, clutching her face with her hands deepening the pits her nails had created. Rocking back and forth.  
  
Hermione went to the bathroom, trembling, and threw some ice cold water in her face to calm down. She looked in the mirror.  
  
She almost didn't recognize herself, she was thin, her body was really pale, and her eyes were red and swollen, partly because of the cold water, but the water couldn't reveal the tears that had rolled over her face the previous seconds, minutes, hours or even months.  
  
She could taste the salty flavour of tears on her lips, and swallowed.  
  
Hermione lifted her hands and beat the mirror in fury and impotence. It shattered into a thousand pieces. There were cuts in her hands and under arms, they were bleeding heavily. But she did not care; she just cried and fell on the ground.  
  
center  
  
i Give me a reason to believe that you're gone  
  
I see your shadow so I know they're all wrong  
  
Moonlight on the soft brown earth  
  
It leads me to where you lay  
  
They took you away from me but now I'm taking you home/i  
  
/center 


	5. Quieting

Chapter 4 – Quieting "Oh, bloody hell." Those were the very first words Hermione could think of as she regained conscious. She looked at her hands and underarms, while she was still sitting on the ground, they were covered in blood. "Fuck." Her sight was quite blurry, and as she tried to stand up she noticed she felt extremely dizzy too. Seeking support at the wall, she managed to stumble towards the kitchen, leaving creepy hand shaped marks of blood on her way. She searched her wand; as soon as she had found it she spoke some most welcome words to heal the quite deep cuts, some vague scars remained visible nevertheless. Her reflection was visible in the dark window: she really looked like hell. Hermione preformed some other enchantments to make the, now already clotted, blood disappear and came to the conclusion that she _really_ needed a shower. The bathroom looked terrible as well, she noticed as she entered it. If someone else would have walked into it at this very moment, he surely would have thought there had just been committed a really bloody murder. A broken mirror, bloody hand shapes on the wall, blood on the ground… Normally she didn't really bother to clean up the apartment, but maybe this was a bit too dirty for her own good. She thought while casting another spell to clean up the mess. The mirror remained broken though. "Oh, come on." She said urgently, "Oculus Reparo!" The pieces stirred slightly, but did not melt into the original mirror. "Huh?" She went through her hair with a hand. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asked, while prodding the tip of her wand. Some green sparks shot out. She tried another time, her temper rising by the lack of willingness of her wand. "Oculus Reparo!" This time the pieces did melt into the mirror again, but they did seem to resist as though they did _not want_ to become one again. She looked into the mirror and was completely startled by the fact someone was standing in her doorway. "Oh my God, _Malfoy_. Do you really think this is funny? Sneaking up behind someone's back like that? You-" She frowned "Hold on a sec," She said, "it was you who was counter cursing my spell on the mirror!" Malfoy smirked. "Might as well have a bit of fun, right?" He asked, grinning mischievously. "Sure, whatever," She said wearily, "Where are you up to anyway?" Malfoy was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. "Well," He said, "The Dark Lord's asked me to keep and eye on you. He seemed to be in the assumption that you might do something _stupid_." "Like what?" She asked, rolling her eyes. "Like _accidentally_ breaking a mirror, and almost bleed to death." He suggested innocently. Hermione's mouth fell open in astonishment, but she recovered herself within a few seconds? "Really," She asked. He sneered. "Now, Malfoy. If you don't mind, I was planning to have a shower." "Oh, that's OK with me." He said, going towards the living room and plumping down in the sofa. "I'll wait here till you're ready, then." _Oh my God, the nerve he's got!_ She thought, as her mouth fell open a second time. She closed it again. "Right," Hermione answered, clearly irritated. "But do not though _anything_!" She added warningly. Malfoy sniffed disapprovingly. "As if I would ever touch anything that belongs to a Mudblood." Hermione threw the door shut angrily, but couldn't help but smirk at the idea of Draco embracing her when she had told him about Potter. 

Somehow the idea of Malfoy sitting alone in her living room, didn't really work relaxing whilst having a shower. She hurriedly washed herself, and came to the conclusion she didn't have anything clean to wear in this room expect for her dressing grow, which was lying in a corner of the room. "No other options so it seems." She sighed as she put it on. She walked into the living room, and saw Malfoy looking at her long, slim legs which were partly visible through the gap. "Don't get any ideas, Malfoy!" she snapped, while dashing off towards the bedroom door. About five minutes later she arrived in the living room again, fully dressed this time (a tight black T-shirt and hipsters). In the mean time Malfoy had enclosed himself in a corner of the sofa, looking utterly relaxed. Hermione went to sit on the other side of it. "Why are you _really_ here?" she asked abruptly. "I told you already: our Lord sent me." He sighed, watching his fingernails. "Keep your secrets then," She aid, while crossing her arms. "Do you want anything to drink, by the way?" "What have you got?" Draco called after her as she sauntered towards the kitchen. "Eh, not much actually…" She admitted, scanning the fridge and some cupboards. "If got coke, wine, eh… some whiskey-" "Whiskey-cola's fine for me, thank you." "OK." She said, taking two glasses and pouring down a lot of coke and only a little of whiskey in her own glass. Coke was cheaper than whiskey, and ever since she'd left home in the beginning of the Summer Holliday's, she was quite hard up. In any case, she did pour the usual amount of whiskey in Malfoy's glass. "Here you are." She said, handing it over. "Thanks," He said, "And nice apartment by the way." He added. Hermione frowned; her place was messier than it had ever been since you'd bought it. "Thanks, I think…" She said uncertainly. Malfoy cleared his throat, and she shot him a questioning look. "Eh… What are we going to do about Snape?" He asked. Hermione raised an eyebrow. She was quite sure this had not be the question he had _intended_ to ask. "Well, like the Lord told us to do. We 'frighten' him a bit as soon as we arrive at Hogwarts, and put him under the Imperius Curse, so he can spy for us." She answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world: hexing your Potion Master and bound him to do whatever you please. "Right." "Is something wrong, Malfoy?" She added in a quite concerned voice. "No, of course not." He said in a would-be-casual voice. He nipped from his whiskey-cola. "Look, I need to go now." He said after a minute or so silence, "I'm quite sure you won't break another mirror tonight." His trademark smirk failed terribly. "OK." She said, gesturing him towards the exit. "No, I'll apparate." He said quickly, before disappearing with a little _-plop_, and leaving a half-consumed and an outright confused Hermione in the living room. It was only then she noticed Malfoy had had left an envelope on the coffee table. 

Hermione took the letter in her hand, it was weighting quite heavy. _To Mr. Draco Malfoy_. The envelope said in a vaguely familiar handwriting. She turned it around. It was sealed with a stamp Hermione did not recognize. _Should I open it?_ She asked herself. _She could not possibly do that._ Her hand was itching though. She held it into the light, she could not read it but it definitely concluded more than one sheet of parchment. She frowned. _Should I bring it to him?_ She bit her lip. _Or should I wait till I see him at a gathering with the Dark Lord?_ Heaving a sigh, she tried to think. _It could take a couple of days or even a week before the next gathering took place, what if this letter was really important to Malfoy?_ She considered for a few moments, still looking at the yellowish envelope in her hand. Then she walked towards her bedroom, put on a cloak and went to sand in front of the fireplace. She lightened it, took a bit of the glittering powder from a pot on the mantelpiece, and threw it into the fire while shouting. "Malfoy Manor!" 


	6. Visit at the Manor

Chapter 5 – Visit at the Manor Hermione's view was blurry. Clearly the combination of having lost quite a lot of blood and green flames spinning around here head, wasn't quite healthy. She closes her eyes, hoping the trip would be over soon. She had never really _liked_ travelling by Floo Powder but now she downright _hated_ it, and wished it would be over soon. Somehow, maybe because of the fact she should not be doing this or maybe it was just such a long distance, the journey seemed to last much longer than any other she had ever made before. It looked as though she was slowing down, her head was swimming and therefore she fell at the bare cold stone floor of Malfoy Manor at full length. "Damn." She said, wile trying to get on her feet, beating dust from her cloak and dressing her bushy ponytail. Hermione's gaze went through the room she'd just entered, and she gasped. The closest closet to describe the chamber was some sort of mediaeval dining room: the walls made out of rough, old, grey stones, just like the floor, there were innumerable stained-glass windows, which portrayed breath-taking performances of ancient magicians. In broad daylight they probably would have spread some sapphire bluish colour, judging by what was visible at the moment; in the middle of the room there stood a huge oaken table that could easily seat about thirty people in claret velvet upholstered chairs; the beautiful crystal chandeliers at the ceiling spread a welcoming white light and lightened up the almost lifelike portraits of various member of the Malfoy family at the wall. Tensely she stepped further into the room, her footsteps echoing with every movement she made. She looked rather impressed at the gigantic portrait of no-one less than Lucius Malfoy himself, and nearly shrieked out of pure shock as she came to stand face to face with the living replica of the portrait. She had not heard him coming. "Can I help you, Miss Granger?" He asked coldly, while eying her with a polity questioning look. On his private property his voice seemed to sound at least a dozen times as menacing. Hermione gulped. "I would like to see Draco, Mr. Malfoy." She informed him politely, carefully avoiding eye contact. Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I am afraid Draco is not at home at the moment, Miss, is there anything else I can do for you?" Malfoy senior, on the other hand, tried hard to do make eye contact. Hermione considered for a moment, looking down at her shoes. _What if Lucius would open this letter while Draco, maybe, did not want his father to read it?_ "No, thank you." She said, as she looked up. But a second later she wished she hadn't because she looked right into those ice-cold, cruel eyes of Malfoy. "I-" She began, but she knew it was no good: she tried hard to block all memories but Malfoy was already searching her mind in eager to find why, for God's sake, this Mudblood wanted to see his son. All kinds of pictures were flashing in Hermione's view, all of them somehow had something to do with Draco. Lucius Malfoy smirked at the sight of Hermione growing fangs, but his sneer disappeared as he found where he had been looking for. He broke off his spell. Hermione blinked. "Where is the letter?" He demanded. Hermione, who knew there was no point in trying to ignore Malfoy's order and denying she _had_ a letter, hesitatingly took the letter out of her pocket and handed it over to him. Malfoy grabbed the letter. "Whom is it from?" He asked, while eying the seal with great interest. "I don't know, sir." She said truthfully, whishing she had opened the bloody letter herself in at home. Malfoy grunted, and took out his wand to break the seal. But, however, as he had hardly even managed to unfold the letter, it was summoned out of his hand. "What?!" Lucius exclaimed, facing a furious Draco Malfoy who was walking hurriedly towards his father, clutching the envelope tightly. "How do you even consider about opening my post without my permission?" Draco bellowed, with a coldness that made a shudder running over Hermione's spine. He was about two inches taller than his father, and was casting his father a look she had only seen him wearing as he faced Potter. Lucius Malfoy's eyebrows almost vanished in his hair. "Why, I am your father and I can open whatever I please," He said, his voice was dangerously low. "No, you can't." Draco said, eying his father in pure loathing. He turned to face Hermione. "Granger, come with me. We need to talk." This last sentence echoed through the room with the weight of a funeral bell. Hermione didn't even dare to object. 

Hermione followed Malfoy through a great oak door leading them into a gigantic hall, which resembled remarkably much with the one at Hogwarts except for the fact it was covered with sapphire stained-glass windows as well. They passed some more corridors, lightened with torches, and decorated with even more portraits of ancient relatives. "Here." Draco said, gesturing her inside. The door looked threatening in a way. Obviously this should be Draco's room. She covered her mouth in amazement when she entered. "White?" She asked, half laughing. Draco mumbled something she could not understand, and pushed her in the sofa quite roughly. "Did you read it?" He asked aggressively, towering in front of her. Hermione's smile vanished abruptly. His pupils were narrowed in suppressed anger. "No, of course not." She answered. "Did you read the letter?" He emphasized. "No, I did not." Her temper rised. "Did. You. read. The. Letter?" He repeated, stressing every word. The room seemed to grow darker. Hermione looked right into Draco's stormy grey eyes, they looked extremely much like his father's at the moment. "I did NOT read that fucking letter of yours, Malfoy!" She screamed, getting up. She took a quivering breath and added: "I came her to _bring_ it, but now I bloody hell wish I had opened it!" Draco grasped both of her arms painfully hard to keep her from running away, and looked her in the hazel eyes. "You fucking bastard." She hissed hatefully as he started searching her mind. She could tell by the force he used to search her thought, he was much better at Leglimency than his father. Draco released his grip, and blinked. "Sorry," He sighed truthfully, "I should have believed you." He flung himself down in the sofa, burying his face in his hands, looking exhausted. "Lucius shouldn't have forced you to give him the letter," He said, taking her hand and trying to pull her back in the sofa. "Leave me alone!" She whispered poisonously, as she tore loose her hand. She stared at him, "I only wanted to bloody bring it to you, and no-one seems to even bother to say as much as 'thanks'. No, the only thing I get is having my mind searched _twice_!" Malfoy frowned. "Twice?" He asked, somewhat confused. "Yes, mister." She sneered, her lips were as thin as McGonagall's when she got angry, "Your oh-so-nice father had already searched it before _you_ did." To Hermione's surprise, Malfoy started laughing hysterically. "What the fuck is so funny, Malfoy?" She spat. It took a while before Draco was finally able to answer due the laughing. "He…" Draco snorted, "He…" Malfoy tried again. "What, Malfoy?" she demanded, getting really irritated. "He must have thought you would have some-" He started laughing again. Breathing hard Draco swallowed, trying to get his face even. "He must have thought you would have some memories of the two of us snogging, or something." He was howling with laughter again. "Just imagine what a shame that would be for him…" He said, between to fits. "His only son, shagging a Mudblood!" Somehow Hermione didn't seem to find this at all funny. Her hair was shimmering in electricity. She crossed her arms. "Sorry…" Malfoy said, wiping tears out of his eyes after a few more minutes. "I just though-" "The idea of the two of us fucking, extremely funny. Yeah… I noticed." She said, rolling her eyes. "Just imagine how Lucius would react." Draco said with a dreamy look in his eyes, staring at the ceiling. "His face, oh, I would give anything to see his face…" Hermione frowned. "You're fucking odd, you know?" She questioned, somewhat admiring nevertheless. "Am I?" He asked rhetorically, folding his hands under his head and eying her questioningly. "Yes, you are." She said, placing both of her arms on either side of Malfoy. Her head was barely five inches from his. Malfoy's eyes were gleaming in a mischievous way Hermione had never witnessed before. 


End file.
